


Seed of the Dragon

by FuckeringSuckotash



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Breeding, Brother/Sister Incest, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Incest, Loss of Virginity, Mother-Son Relationship, Oral Sex, Parent/Child Incest, Public Sex, Ritual Public Sex, Sex, Sibling Incest, Sibling Rivalry, Vaginal Sex, Virginity Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:48:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23573380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuckeringSuckotash/pseuds/FuckeringSuckotash
Summary: An original work of erotic fiction that takes place in the world of George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire, exploring the peculiar rituals and dynamics of an OC Targaryen royal family.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 61
Collections: A Song Of Ice And Fire and Game Of Thrones





	Seed of the Dragon

Queen Salarea Targaryen stepped onto the balcony of the Red Keep’s high tower and leaned out over the parapet as her silvery hair floated gently on the breeze. It was still dark and the sun had just begun to rise over the shimmering waters of the Narrow Sea. A handmaiden had informed her that the King and their children had arisen with the dawn to train at swordplay on the practice pitch. So Salarea had climbed up the steps of her tall tower in the early hours of the morning to observe them from her vantage point. 

The clanging of steel and the crunch of bone had never held much interest for the Queen. She left those less civilized pursuits to her brother and husband, King Aegor. He had always been captivated by swordplay since they were little more than babes at the breast, his head filled with tales of chivalry and brave heroes like their ancestor Prince Aemon the Dragonknight and Sir Symeon Stareyes.

It was spells and secrets that fascinated Queen Salarea, magic and wisdom from Old Valyria that had miraculously survived the Doom in ancient tomes and manuscripts. While her husband played at his boorish games and swung his sword around, the business of running the kingdom had largely fallen upon her. Which she had gladly taken up with zest and unmistakable competence.

In her youth, they had called her the Silver Princess, always eschewing the traditional red and black colors of her house in favor of the brightest fabrics of silver and white Myrish lace. Her hair billowed down to her waist in long cascades, completing a carefully-rendered effect that caused her to practically glow with pale moonlight whenever she appeared at court. Men sung songs of her beauty and the smallfolk would shield their eyes when they first caught a glimpse of her, fearful that they might go blind from staring too directly.

Now that her brother-husband King Aegor I sat the Iron Throne, they called her the Silver Queen to her face. And the Silver Witch behind her back.

Age had done little to dim her renowned beauty. Pregnancy and the births of her two children had added womanly curves to her once-slight frame, which she carried with expert grace. The few creases and lines that had etched their way into her face over the intervening years had only served to give her an air of distinction, transforming a comely young girl into an elegant and breathtaking woman of middling years.

But there had always been rumors, whispers passed back and forth from the pot shops of Flea Bottom to the high halls of the Red Keep itself. Of spells and prophecies, glamours and dark magic. Serving girls who claimed she could predict the future, anointed knights who swore upon their holy vows that they had seen her appearance shift with the wave of a hand. Rumors that Salarea herself had done little to discourage, for cultivating an aura of intrigue and fear could be quite useful, as she well knew. She had a well-earned reputation for being open-handed to her friends, and ruthless to her enemies. High lords and smallfolk alike had all heard tell of the dark magic she practiced up in her tower and it chilled them to the bone, making them think twice about plotting betrayal. 

It was concerns about her most important spellcraft to date that had brought the Queen out to the balcony that morning. There was still much planning to do, and she needed to know when the rest of her family would be ready for their roles in the crucial next phase. She scanned the grounds beneath her with an air of haughty indifference that normally hung over the delicate features of her face like a veil, only briefly betrayed by her violet eyes as they anxiously darted back and forth. Until they found three figures in the practice fields below.

Her son and daughter were facing off against each other in the center of the practice pit with blunted tourney swords, while their father the King barked out instruction from the sidelines. All three were clad in black tunics, intricately embroidered with the red dragon of their house. The King and Prince had silvery-blonde hair that matched Salarea’s own, worn in waves that hung just above their shoulders. Only the Princess stood out amongst them, her locks raven black and close-cropped about her head. She slowly circled around her brother with a patient, almost feline fluidity. The Prince moved more nervously, shifting about in the center of the ring to keep his blade between the two of them.

“Keep your guard up, Jaekar. Leave the foe no opening!`` snapped King Aegor as he looked on. Aegor was well-built and imposing, bearing an unmistakable air of martial aptitude and regal authority.. The young prince raised his sword up to better protect his face. But the instant he did, his opponent snapped into action and lunged forward, striking him hard on the outer thigh with her blunted practice weapon. When Prince Jaekar flinched from the pain of the blow, Princess Jaeheira brought her sword down around the back of his ankle and jerked it up. Suddenly, he found himself on his back, looking up at the face of his elder sister Jaheira as she smirked down at him.

“Sloppy, Jaekar. Get up, once more!`` the King barked again.

Jaekar did as his father bade him, angrily smacking the ground with his fist as he rose to his feet. Jaheira grinned wider, leaning back into her guard stance as he rushed towards her. He brought his sword down to bear on her head with all the strength he could muster, but found himself striking at the empty air as his sister gracefully, almost lazily spun around behind him and brought her elbow up to thrash him in the back of his head. His vision exploded in a burst of blinking stars as he found himself again on the ground, face down with a mouth full of dirt.

Jaheira laughed derisively at him as he spat and sputtered, rubbing at the back of his head.

“Had enough, little brother?” She asked in a mockingly sweet voice. “Or would you like another serving of dirt for breakfast?”

Queen Salarea winced with sympathy for her youngest son. Jaekar had never been the warrior his sister was. Jaheira had taken after her father in terms of physical prowess and temperament, preferring saddles and swords to the dolls and frilly dresses that delighted most of the other girls her age. When the highborn ladies were practicing their musical talents or needlework, Jaheira could be found on horseback, drilling with lance and mace. More often than not under the tutelage of her father, who had taken a direct hand in her training ever since the day she had picked up her first wooden toy sword in the crib. Her natural athleticism and untamed abandon made her a fearsome opponent, she was more than capable of knocking down much larger and more experienced knights in a melee or on the lists. Long hours on horseback and in the practice yards had given her a lean, muscular figure. Taller than most girls her age with long, toned limbs and wild, fiery eyes of deep purple. She kept her hair short so it stayed out of her face when she was fighting or riding.

Jaekar had of course received the customary martial training, befitting his stature as prince and heir to the realm. He practiced diligently with the Red Keep’s Master of Arms and he was a capable fighter. But he would never match the raw power of his father, nor the skill and sheer ferocity of his sister. He had always taken to books and stories, far more likely to be found deep in conversation with the Grand Maester over a massive tome in the Keep’s library than out in the practice yard trying to break bones. He was thin and slight of frame, favoring his mother in that respect. And he had inherited her stunning good looks and fairness of face, with high cheekbones and the customary platinum hair and violet eyes of the Targaryen’s Old Valyrian bloodline. It gave him an almost androgynous quality that elicited gasps and wide-eyed stares of longing from the serving girls and high-born ladies of court alike. His beauty was spoken of across the seven kingdoms and due to his position, he had had no shortage of marriage offers from the most powerful families in the realm. Nor did he lack for propositions and offers of pleasurable company from many of the braver handmaidens and ladies of court. 

But he had spurned them all, dutifully following the stern lessons of his mother.

“The Dragon does not lie with the beasts of the field. We rise above them all, my son. When the time is right, you will wed your sister as I wed my brother. As past generations of our family always have. The blood that runs in our veins sets us apart from other men. It is the true source of our power, in an unbroken line going back to the ancient Valyrian empire thousands of years ago. And your seed is worth far more than a mountain of gold. You will NOT waste it cavorting with base-born harlots.”

But it had become maddeningly difficult as of late for the young prince to keep up this enforced celibacy.. His frustration and intimate desires seemed to grow by the hour, and the not infrequent humiliations he endured at the hands of his sister did little to help.

Anger burned inside his chest as Jaekar rose again to his feet, staring daggers into his sister’s mirthful gaze. Forgetting his practice sword altogether, he rushed towards Jaheira and dove at her, tackling her to the ground in his fury. This sudden outburst of rage had surprised her and she wasn’t able to step nimbly aside as she usually did. They rolled around in the sands of the practice pit, their bodies pressed up against each other as they struggled for position. He was able to pull himself on top of her and straddled her chest, raising his fist up to strike. But before he could, powerful hands from behind wretched him upwards and tossed him aside with astonishing ease.

King Aegor had pulled him off of his sister before he could pummel her and threw him back down to the ground. Then he raised the boy up by the collar of his tunic with one hand and struck him across the face with the back of the other, landing a smarting blow on Jaekar’s cheek.

“You fight like an animal, not like a man.” the King scowled. Jaekar tried to pull away from his father and braced himself for the next blow that he knew was coming. Then, to the prince’s great surprise, his father broke into a hearty laugh. “But perhaps there is something of the dragon in you yet, boy!”

He set Jaekar down and turned towards Jaheira, who had risen to her feet and grasped her practice sword with both hands. Jaekar saw a flush redden both of Jaheira’s cheeks, her chest heaving.

“Try that again and I’ll bash in that pretty face.” Jaheira fumed, leveling her sword menacingly at him.

“Enough,” the King replied, a tone of finality in his voice. “That’s enough fighting for today. Go clean yourselves up. Both of you!”

Jaekar’s face was covered in dirt from the practice grounds, and a small trickle of blood ran down from his nose. He wiped at it with the sleeve of his shirt, glared once more at his sister, then spun around and quickly started back towards the confines of the Red Keep. His heart still raced with their excursions and the flush of fury he felt towards his older sister. But there was something else there that unnerved him. When he had looked back at Jaheira, he hadn’t just spotted the usual note of mockery in her eyes. There was a hunger there that he couldn't help lingering on. A frustration that was very familiar to him, the same look he recognized in his own reflection when he saw it in the mirror. Mixed with something else, almost like a kind of longing. Jaekar shook the thought from his head and looked back over his shoulder one last time as he stomped off the practice yard and into the castle proper. He saw his father lean down to whisper something in his sister’s ear, while a smile crept across her lips. Then the King called for his horse, and Jaheira set off towards the nearby stables.

Queen Salarea’s chest panged for both her children as she watched from atop her tower. She understood the fire burning within them, far better than either of them could. She remembered that same frustration from her own maidenhood, from just before her eldest daughter’s conception. She had gone half-mad with vexing lust in the days before she had participated in the ritual herself.

“And ever since…” the Queen thought bitterly. It had been years since she had last lain with a man. Her husband the King had long since abandoned her bed, taken to frolicking with an ever-changing parade of mistresses and serving girls. She had never taken a lover for her own, knowing no other but her brother. This was not out of any loyalty to him, but because she knew the power of her pure blood and lineage. She had steadfastly refused to pollute her body with the seed of a lesser man, throwing her pent-up energies into her work, her spells and the running of the kingdom. Yes, she knew the aggravation her children were struggling with all too well.

What they were experiencing were the beginning stages of a sacred and little-understood ritual of blood magic, passed down amongst their family for generations. The stirrings within them had already begun to manifest, they’d likely both been affected for far longer than they let on. She knew she had to act quickly now, there was much and more to do before the ritual could be brought to completion

The thought of the preparations she must now make brought a flush to her pale cheeks, and caused a wave of heat to well up in her bosom and radiate down her body. She traced this warmth through her core, cupping her breasts with both hands and inhaling deeply before running her fingers down the silken fabric of her dress, pausing just below her stomach. Then she set off to find her son. She knew he would be soaking in the palace baths, as he always did after a training session.

***

The breeze had stilled as the late morning sun rose higher in the sky. Its heat began to beat down on Jaheira as she approached the stables from the practice yard.

She pulled at the straps of her black leather tunic and carelessly ripped it over her head, smiling inwardly as she saw the eyes of a young stable boy almost bulge out of their sockets. Her white cotton shift had lifted when she pulled off the tunic, briefly exposing her taut stomach and the pert apples of her bare breasts to his sight. It gave her an inordinate amount of pleasure to tease the household servants with tantalizing glimpses of her body, knowing that it would mean a fate worse than death for them to actually touch her flesh. The boy turned scarlet, then wretched his head back down to the stable grounds and returned to the task of spreading fresh rushes.

Jaheira approached a sleek, black mare tied up to a corner post and scratched at the animal’s fine coat, pressing her cheek up to its muzzle as she whispered in the animal’s ear.

“Will you fly swiftly for me today, Baleria? It’s only a short ride to the Godswood. We should hurry, it wouldn’t do to keep father waiting for us. We musn’t awaken the dragon.”

The stable boy scrambled to fit Baleria with a saddle for their ride. But Jaheira ignored him, untying the knot at the hitching post and vaulting onto the horse’s bare back in one swift motion. The boy was nearly trampled as she spurred her mount forward and tore out of the stables at speed.

Jaheira loved the dance of swords and took no small amount of satisfaction from the impact of a well-struck blow upon her hapless opponents. But it was on horseback that she truly came alive. The momentum, the wind racing through her hair, the exertions of the powerful animal beneath her as she guided it on with the subtle signals of an expert rider and they became almost as one. She savoured it all.. It was the closest she could ever get to her true birthright: as a dragonrider, soaring through the sky on a creature of monstrous destruction. Raining fire and blood down upon those below, no one able to tame the terrible creature but her. But the beasts of legend were all dead now, she would never ride a dragon of her own.

“Unless father can be convinced…” she thought to herself, a sly grin creeping across her face as she leaned down and urged her mare on even faster.

Her haste soon brought her to the grove of the Godswoods and she hobbled Baleria nearby. It was cool in the shade of the trees and the breeze blew through the loose cotton of her shift, causing gooseprickles to rise on her skin. She could feel the pulse beat in her breast as she entered the glade and looked around for her father.

King Aegor was seated under the great old oak at the center of the Godswood, passing a whetstone over the edge of his Valyrian steel sword: Blackfyre. A thin streak of sunlight found its way through the canopy of the trees and glinted off the blade, making it appear to shift in color from glistening steel to oily black and crimson.

Her father had always radiated authority. He was tall, powerfully built and ruggedly handsome, every inch the portrait of a King. A renowned warrior in his youth, his face was carved with a patchwork of old battle scars and he wore his silver hair and beard close-cropped. Outside of a few minor rebellions and upstart bandit raids that he had relished in putting down, his reign had been largely peaceful and he was well-loved by highborn and smallfolk alike. But he lived for war and tourneys, never caring for council meetings or the day to day affairs of actually running the kingdom. He left those mundane details to his sister-wife, Queen Salarea. 

The king heard his daughter approach through the trees, and paused the whetstone on the blade’s edge as he looked up at her. She wore black leather riding breeches that strained against the toned muscles of her thighs and a loose cotton shirt with no smallclothes beneath to conceal her modesty. But then again, his daughter had never been the most modest of creatures.

“You are a Princess of the Realm and you go out riding dressed like that?” he asked with mock reproach, raising his eyebrows at her.

She walked towards him slowly, swaying her hips from side to side as she leveled him with her gaze, her deep purple eyes practically glowing.

“The Dragon hardly concerns herself with the wandering eyes of fools.” she laughed haughtily, as she stopped in front of where he sat. He tossed the sword aside as she leaned down towards him and placed her hands on both his knees, bending forward to kiss him dutifully on the cheek. But she lingered there with her face pressed against his, longer than was appropriate for an innocent greeting between father and daughter. The hairs on the nape of his neck stood up as her lips brushed his earlobe.

“Or perhaps you have some punishment in mind?” she breathed into his ear. “I’ve been most wicked, father…”

The loose material of her shirt had opened almost to her navel now, causing his eyes to wander there as if of their own volition. Her pale, white breasts were smaller than those of her mother, but firm and shapely in the full flush of her youth. Her tiny pink nipples protruded stiffly, betraying her growing arousal as she inhaled. He could feel his own member begin to stir at the sight.

“Maybe it’s time to employ the Maidenvault again, as King Baelor did when he locked up his sister-wives.” The King mused as he ran his hand down his daughter’s thigh, marveling at the muscle definition he found there before he pulled her up onto his lap. As he did, she felt his pressing stiffness and began kneading herself against it, relishing in the involuntary shudder that this sent through her father’s body.

“It would take more men than you’ve got to force me in there.” his daughter tittered in reply, grabbing his hand and pressing it against her breast as she found his mouth with hers. Her tongue filled his senses with a tart flavor of citrus and the salty tang of sweat as she plunged it into his mouth and he met it with his own. There was something else there, too. The faintest hint of the sour, coppery taste of blood.

Jaheira began nuzzling at his neck, sliding her hand into his trousers to find his rising manhood. She began to stroke him with a warm and surprisingly-smooth grip.

“Take me, father. I can’t stand it anymore…” she whispered into his neck between soft, wet kisses. “Please, I need it so badly!” All pretense and teasing had suddenly dropped from her voice. She spoke with sharp desperation now.

The King’s passions overtook him then and he lifted his daughter up in his arms and threw her down onto a soft patch of grass in the shade of the old oak. He knelt down between her inviting legs and pressed his hips up to her inner thighs, ripping apart the flimsy fabric of her shirt to fully expose her torso as her breasts heaved up and down in quick, excited breaths. Her eyes looked up at him with animal lust.

“Father, it’s time to make your little princess a woman.” Jaheira moaned as she peeled her leather riding breeches down around the supple curves of her cheeks, revealing an unkempt thatch of jet-black down just above the wetness of her sex.

Aegor quickly fumbled at the ties of his trousers and the straining masthead within soon came bursting out, gently slapping against the furnace of his daughter’s cleft. Her moans broke into a shriek of pleasure as his flesh first touched down on hers and he leaned over her to taste her mouth once more. She eagerly met his kiss again, wrapping her arms around him and digging her fingernails into his back as his manhood writhed against her moistening outer lips..

“Do it, father. Put it inside.” she begged him with palpable urgency. He pulled himself away from her kisses and straightened up atop her, her splayed thighs pressed closely against his hips and his member resting just above her opening. It would be so easy, just one swift thrust…

But at that moment the King looked up, and found himself staring directly into an old and solemn face carved into the trunk of the old weirwood tree above. It towered over them, piercing him to his core with scrutinizing eyes that wept tears of red sap. He craned his neck around to see a half-dozen more faces, all looking directly on with mournful, judging expressions. He could hear the words of his sister ringing out to him from his memories.

“She has your wildness inside her, dear brother, you know that best of any. The effects of the ritual will only exacerbate this, as it did to us when it was our turn. She’ll likely be half-mad with fire and blood before it’s completed. You must protect her, keep her safe, perhaps even indulge her a little if necessary. But for the ritual to be successful, she must come to it with her maidenhead intact. Promise me, Aegor.”

King Aegor sighed out a bitter curse against his sister-wife. Of course, she was right. She had always been right, ever since the days they used to run and play children’s games in this very grove. The gods whispered secrets to her. Sometimes from the fires, sometimes in her dreams, omens that even a King could not ignore. And in his secretest heart, unacknowledged to all but himself, he knew that he was afraid of his sister. Of this connection she had to the world of the gods, and the powers they gave her.

He brushed his fingers along the lips of Jaheira’s slit and carefully spread them apart. She closed her eyes and arched her back, breathing heavily as he slipped inside of her and delicately pressed up against the softness of her maidenhead with his fingertips.

“Still intact, dear sister. I’ve not broken my vow just yet.” he thought as he withdrew his fingers from inside his daughter and laid himself down on the grass next to her. Her eyes snapped open and found his, a look of confusion, hunger and mounting anger staring back at him.

“What’s the matter, father? Why did you stop?” she gasped at him. “Just a little further…”, and she attempted to roll over to mount him. But he placed his hand over her heart to stop her and held fast.

“You know why, Jaheira. Why we mustn’t continue past these little games we’ve both grown so fond of. You are promised to your brother, you have been since the day of your birth. There are more powerful forces at work here than either of us know. More powerful than even a King.”

Her rage boiled over, like a storm lashing against Shipbreaker’s Bay. 

“So you brought me out here only to tease me, as you tremble in fear from mother? What kind of king, what kind of man are you?” she spat at him, her face twisted in anger. “Why bid me to meet you here, if you were only going to shrivel like a eunuch when we were so close . Do you truly hate me so?”, a note of pleading now breaking through in her voice.

He smiled inwardly, she knew how to play him so well. He almost pitied his son then, even while he burned with jealousy at the young prince.

“No, my child, I didn’t bring you here to tease you. I brought you here because I feared that the fire growing within you might burn down the whole of King’s Landing if it isn’t satiated.” he replied, calmly.

“Then FUCK me! I ache for it so desperately that I can’t sleep at night. Do you wish me to beg? Please, father…”

“No, you are a princess and the blood of the dragon flows in your veins! You will beg for nothing!” he suddenly roared at her, and she seemed to shrink before him. “But you are promised to your brother, and there are pacts that even Kings cannot break. It won’t be much longer now, the ritual is in its final stages of preparation. And once it’s completed, you will be satisfied then, my little princess. I swear it.”

“I don’t want my weakling of a brother,” she implored him, running her hands along the length of his body again. “I need a man to quench my fires, and Jaekar is but a boy.”

“He will be a man soon enough, and the dragon will awaken within him.” he replied as he caught her wrists in his hands. She struggled and fought him, trying to free herself from his rigid grasp. Then she seemed to almost melt against him, pressing her face into his chest. He could feel the wetness of her tears there.

“You can’t do this, you can’t leave me like this.” she whimpered into the folds of his doublet.

“That was never my intention, Jaheira.” he whispered into her dark hair as he held her tightly to his chest.

“Now, lie down.” he ordered, using the same regal voice of authority that he used at court. She looked up at him with a start, then did as she was bidden, lying down in the tall grass. He spread her still-bare legs apart and pressed his mouth against her lower lips, his tongue skillfully lapping at the sweet nectars he found there.

The explosion of her climax rang throughout the Godswood, startling the birds from their branches and sending them up into the sky with her cries of ecstasy. 

***

Queen Salarea poured over a large and very old tome that lay open on the table of her tower chambers, her eyes flittering back and forth across the pages. Her work was at a crucial moment now and she needed to get every part of it just right if she was to complete it successfully. If the ritual succeeded, it would mean prosperity for their family. Another generation of strong, silver-maned children to carry on their ancient lineage. If she failed, it could spell disaster and woe for all involved. Perhaps even the end of their line.

Timing was the most crucial aspect. The ritual must be performed with strict adherence to the procedures of an ancient ceremony, and only completed at the exact right moment.

At some point during their eons-long rule of the Valyrian Freeholds, the noble families of the empire had come to realize fascinating secrets about the celestial cycles of the heavens and how they influenced events below. Their obsession with cultivating noble bloodlines and their meticulous record-keeping had eventually led some clever scholar amongst them to notice certain patterns. That their greatest heroes, the most exceptional scions of their noblest houses tended to share similar qualities: a propensity towards being born under specific circumstances and in the shadows of certain heavenly bodies. They had catalogued what they learned, kept it a secret from all but a handful of the most powerful families. And down through the long millennia, after the flight of the Targaryens to Dragonstone, after the Doom of Valyria and the conquest of Westeros by Aegon and his sisters, a tiny fragment of their knowledge had managed to find its way to Queen Salarea.

The idea was simple and elegant in theory, but difficult in practice. Valyrian blood held deep magic, that much was clear. If conception occurred at a precise moment, under a strong star-sign and during the right phase of the moon, that magic might emerge to cleanse their line from the taint of inbreeding. Madness and deformity that would have plagued them after generations of these practices would be purged, leaving their children whole of body and mind. Beautiful in form, with the customary Valyrian features that marked them almost as demigods compared to normal men.

But the movements of heavenly bodies were too random, too imprecise to sync up with the rhythm of procreation. Since even the Valyrian dragonriders lacked a way to control the stars above, they were forced to do the next best thing: find a way to influence the cycles of potency and fertility in their sons and daughters. That had proven far more feasible, and generations of practice in these techniques had yielded a time-tested method for the Queen to follow..

Salarea had been discreetly slipping both of her children a regimen of herbs and medicines for weeks now, to prepare their bodies for what would be required of them. Using blood magic and the instructions written out for her by the sages of Old Valyria,, she had carefully manipulated them both, readying their bodies and inflaming their passions to ensure that their cycles would be attuned to the dances of the heavenly bodies. When the anointed time arrived, when planets and stars were all aligned, her daughter would be at the peak of her fecundity and it would be nigh impossible for Jaekar to fail in seeding her with a strong heir of pure Valyrian lineage.

It was all to ready them both for the ceremony a few days hence, when the moon would be full and the stars in their rightful places. There was only one more preparation to make, one last ingredient to acquire before she could brew the potion that would mark the beginning of the ceremony. But getting her hands on that final ingredient would require a....special effort....on Salarea’s part.

She checked the instructions laid out in the massive tome one more time, then approached an unassuming copper kettle hanging over the fire and opened its top with her bare hand. The paltry flames of the hearthfire were hardly strong enough to burn a dragon, but it would brew her potion well enough. One by one, she carefully added each ingredient to the mixture, rare components from every far-flung corner of the world. Herbs that the maesters of Oldtown used to treat infertility in the high-born ladies of Westeros, a rare root sold in the finest pillow-houses of Lys as a cure for impotency that was said to invoke virility even amongst dead men, and a small bottle filled with the Shade of the Evening, brought to her at great expense all the way from the distant House of the Undying in Essos. The blue-lipped Warlocks of Qarth used it to amplify their petty glamours and make their minds swim with false visions. Salarea needed it for a different purpose: so that it might help inspire the dragon dreams that lie dormant within their bloodline, and perhaps even grant them a glimpse of the future.

The potion bubbled slowly over the fire, turning from murky brown to a bright, viscous blue as she added in the Shade of the Evening. When she was sure she had it right and the concoction was missing only one final ingredient, Salarea realized that she reeked of alchemy and called for her handmaidens to attend her. They brought in buckets of water rising high with steam to wash her, while others brushed her hair into its full luster and anointed her body with oils and fragrances. But when they made ready to dress her and fix her hair into braids, she shooed them away with a wave of her hand, preferring to complete this last stages of her preparation alone.

She painted her eyelids with smoky blue-green shadows, and traced the curves of her lips in deep crimson. As she stood up to her full height and took in her reflection in the floor length mirror, a radiant goddess looked back at her. Flowing platinum-white hair framed her heart-shaped face as the two brilliant amethysts of her eyes blazed with a scarcely-contained heat. Her shapely hourglass figure could cause even the shriveled old priests of the Sept to forget their vows. She had kept the delicate neck and thin waist of her youth, but motherhood had caused her once-slight bosom and narrow hips to blossom into fullness. 

She carefully accessorized her hair and ears with large diamonds and precious metals to catch the light. Then donned a robe of the finest white Myrish lace, which seemed to shift between dazzling silver and tantalizing translucence depending on how the light struck it. She gazed into the mirror one last time and saw the full effect her ensemble provoked, glowing with incandescent light. When she set off to find the young prince at the palace baths, her bare feet hardly touched the ground.

Jaekar gently settled his aching body into the tub, then sank below the surface and allowed the hot water to carry away the mud and dried blood from his face. There were two memories swirling around within his skull that he just couldn’t shake: the look of pride that his father had shown when he claimed to see a spark of the dragon in Jaekar, and how Jaheira’s hot breath had felt on his face when they were pressed up against each other and rolling in the dirt of the practice yard. The firmness of her breasts and the coiled muscles of her long legs as they wrapped around his filled his mind and body with scarcely repressed lust, always so close to the surface now. He allowed himself to float along the surface of the bathwater, eyes shut closed as he attempted to recreate the moment in his mind’s eye. The prince remained motionless for a long while, lost in his thoughts as he slowly bobbed up and down in the pool. He didn’t hear the creaking of the bath chamber doors as they swung open.

The bath addenants curtsied lowly to the Queen as she entered and made to ready assist her at once. But she cut them off before they could even utter a word of greeting and dismissed them with a quick hand gesture. They bowed their heads and departed immediately, leaving Salarea and her heedless son quite alone in the echoing, dimly lit chamber.

Salarea quietly tiptoed through the thick and humid mist of the baths, careful to approach the pool her son was bathing in without disturbing him. As she stepped through the clouds of vapor and gazed fully upon the prince’s form in the water, she made a sharp, inadvertent intake of breath. She raised a hand to her mouth, abashed that the noise had alerted him to her presence. But he didn’t move or register any response, and she breathed out a sigh of relief. Her pulse began to thrumb loudly in her breast as she drank in the length of his body with her eyes.

The prince appeared almost ethereal as he floated on his back in the pool’s clear water: pale and otherworldly, with arms spread out from his shoulders like a bird in flight and his legs crossed at the ankles. His silvery-white hair was the very same shade as her own, and it drifted about his head like a cascade of fine light. A calm, serene expression lent his already-delicate features an even more feminine cast, and Salarea might’ve sworn that she looked upon a fresh-faced young girl if she had only seen him from the waist up. But the tight intonation of muscles along Jaekar’s abdomen and the slender smoothness of his waist drew her eyes downwards, towards the member between his legs that exposed his true sex. She could hear the blood pounding in her ears as she stared agape at the prince’s manhood, the heat of the baths suddenly making her head swim.

It had been years since she’d last seen her son’s body exposed like this, and the sudden and very pronounced proof of his maturity astonished her. There was no doubt that he’d grown since then, a part of him certainly had. Her breath caught as her eyes locked upon his member, bobbing up and down in the water between his legs: smooth, elegantly protuberant and already half-swollen. She wondered at what images were dancing behind her son’s eyelids just then, while a hint of green jealousy prickled at her heart.

“Jaekar…” she murmured, just audibly enough for him to hear her. The effect was instant, as his eyes flew open and he jumped upright at the sound of her voice.

“M-mother!” he sputtered out, “What are you doing here?”. 

Jaekar turned beet red, and his hands shot out reflexively to cover his nakedness. He scanned around the bath chamber and discovered that the servants had all departed, leaving them quite alone in the hazy and dimly lit room. When he looked up at his mother to register a protest, the words caught in his suddenly very dry throat, and his violet eyes grew wide at the sight of her.

She was a vision, seeming to almost radiate light as the candles reflected off the sheen of her lustrous, silvery hair and sparkled in the diamonds adorned there. Her robe was opened almost down to her navel, barely concealing the fullness of her bosom as her nipples strained against the sheer fabric. The robe’s material shifted from fine Myrish lace to almost total translucence in the candlelight, teasing the young prince with brief glimpses of the extraordinary figure contained within. Jaekar felt himself stirring beneath the water, and sank deeper into the pool to hide his arousal.

“Why, my darling prince, I’ve come to enjoy the baths, same as you.” she replied brightly, eyeing him sidelong. “And it’s been so long since last we bathed together, much too long.”

Salarea stepped up to the edge of the pool. Then she opened up her robe, allowing it to gently slide down her shoulders and land in a pile on the floor. Jaekar gaped at her. He had always known his mother was a beautiful woman, but he had never seen her like this before. Hair flowing down her shoulders instead of braided up, glistening, pale skin like fresh milk, the flawless orbs of her breasts peaked with hard, pink nipples . And as she dipped her bare foot into the water and stepped into the pool, he noticed the neatly-trimmed patch of silver hair between her legs, just above the dewy lips of her sex.

Salarea lowered herself fully into the pool, the globes of her breasts bobbing gently in the water as she gazed with curious intensity at her son. Jaekar blanched and spun away from her in his embarrassment. 

“Mother, this isn’t right. You shouldn’t be here.” he protested. “I’m a man grown now, I can bathe myself!”

Jaekar felt his mother press up against his back, the softness of her skin sent an involuntary shiver down his whole body. Her arms wrapped around his chest and she gently traced the muscles of his flat stomach with her fingertips. Then her hands began to slide down his stomach and below his waist, where they found his swollen member. She made a small whistling noise as she let out a breath of surprise through pursed lips. His was larger than she had even imagined, fully-erect now and pulsating in her hand. Yet his skin was remarkably soft to her touch..

“You certainly are a man grown…” she whispered huskily in his ear, as she began to stroke up and down against the smoothness of his shaft under the water. He grabbed her by the wrist then, and turned around to look at her.

“What’s the meaning of this? What are you really doing here, mother?” he asked. They stared at each other, his confused expression meeting her sly one.

“I’ve come to...assist you. To offer you instruction for what’s to come.” she said finally, breaking the silence. “Much and more will be expected of you, my sweet prince, and you must be prepared.”

“You mean the ritual, and my marriage to Jaheira?” he asked, and she nodded. “Mother, she hates me! You saw what happened in the practice yard this morning. She’ll never agree to it. Perhaps it’s best if I found some other bride. There are plenty of other eligible, highborn maidens in the seven kingdoms…”

Queen Salarea stood straight up in the pool and slapped her son across the face.

“Never! I’ll see this kingdom burned to ashes before I’ll see you married to some common harlot. You are a TARGARYEN, my son. And the Dragon does not lie with the beasts of the field!”

Then she grabbed his hand and pressed it up to her breast, finding his mouth with her own and kissing him hungrily. They stayed locked like that for a long while, gripped tightly together as their tongues explored each other’s mouth.

“I know how...frustrating it’s been for you.” she breathed, finally breaking away. “For both you and your sister, as the ritual reaches its conclusion. But you’ve done so well, staying true to your vows and not betraying your family. Just consider this my gift to you, for showing such loyalty to your family. And more importantly, pay heed to these lessons for the final consummation.”

She took the young prince by the hand then, and guided him up the steps that led out of the pool. He offered no struggle, following her out of the baths until they both stood naked and dripping on the marble floor.

“But won’t we be breaking my vow to Jaheira? How will that affect the ritual?” he argued weakly, his resistance crumbling.

Salarea tilted her head sideways and gave the prince a pitying look, then flashed a mischievous smile.  
“No, my sweet child. The daughters of House Targaryen must come to the ceremony pure and unspoiled, as I was with your father. But that is hardly necessary, or even wise, for the sons of our line. Your father had similar...lessons...from our mother.” And half of the handmaidens of the Red Keep, she thought bitterly to herself.

“Truly, mother? Is this really what is required of me, as the blood of the dragon and prince of the realm?” he asked, taking a step closer to her.

“Consider it our solemn duty, if that helps.” she replied, embracing him again and planting a series of soft, wet kisses down his neck. She felt his manhood pressed up against her stomach, swelling with desire. Her loins ached for his touch, and she knew the wetness dripping down her inner thighs wasn’t entirely the pool water. “But it feels to me like you don’t need any help…”

The last of the young prince’s hesitation flew from him then, as his mother pressed against him more firmly and began softly nibbling at his neck and earlobe. An overwhelming wave of desire surged through his body and as he reached down to caress the soft cheeks of her backside, he pulled Salarea up off the ground and into his arms. She responded eagerly, wrapping her legs around his waist as she clutched the tensed muscles of his shoulders tightly.

Jaekar spun her around in his arms, eyes tearing across the room until they locked onto a wide divan in the corner of the chamber, piled high with pillows. He raced over and threw her down on top of it in his haste. The Queen laughed as she bounced off the padding, remembering the curious conversation she had had just the day before with her household steward. He was practically scandalized when she ordered him to have this very same divan taken from her private chambers and moved into the palace baths, fretting over the damage that water might have on its fine upholstery. “Any worse than what a stay in the Black Cells might do to your own delicate hide?” she asked him sweetly, and he rushed off without another word to do as he was bid.

Jaekar grabbed her thighs and pulled her closer to him at the edge of the recliner, positioning himself between her open legs. His erection touched down against the lips of her sex, and he began to grind himself against her as she moaned with delight. Again and again he kneaded the smooth base of his cock against her dripping cleft, until she was ravenous with desire. Then he drew his full length down her crevice one last time, and paused just as his bulbous head pressed up against the opening of her sex. He leaned over her and their eyes met in the dim glow of the candles. 

She saw the unmistakable heat of his lust burning there clearly, but there was something else in them as well. A note of trepidation, almost of fear. And she suddenly found herself transported to a time many years before, when she vividly recalled seeing those same violet eyes brimming with tears as they looked up to her. He was still a young boy then, of scarcely a half-dozen years. Jaheira had played some cruel jape on him and he had run to her for solace, as he always did. She had knelt down to embrace him and he threw himself into her arms, burying his face in her bosom as she held him close.

Salarea saw a trace of that boy still behind the prince’s eyes. She reached up to rest her palm on her son’s cheek, stroking it softly while giving him a reassuring nod. Then with her other hand,.she reached down between their intertwined legs and guided Jaekar’s manhood inside of her moistened slit.

Jaekar’s world seemed to melt away just then, until it was only the two of them locked in their embrace: the silken folds of her pussy and the ferocity of her tongue as it lashed against his own. She tasted vaguely of mulled wine, making the prince’s head swim with notes of strange spices and swirling intoxication. His mother’s heat seemed to enveloped him, warmer and more inviting than he could have ever imagined. He thrust himself fully into her and when their thighs struck together, she let out a gasp that echoed through the chamber. For a fleeting second, Jaekar was worried she would alert half the castle. But he knew the Queen would hardly be bothered by the concerns of rabble that lived in the Dragon’s shadow. 

She arched her back, lifting her magnificent breasts and offering them up to him. He grasped them eagerly and rather clumsily, then took a nipple into his mouth and began to suckle. Her moaning grew louder and she grasped at the nape of his neck, her fingers running through his hair as she pressed his face more closely to her bosom.

Soon the clinging tightness, impossible heat and sheer exhilaration was too much for the young prince, and he felt his climax fast approaching. He tried to separate himself, making to warn the queen of what was approaching.

“Mother! I-I can’t hold it…”

But she clung to him more even more tightly, wrapping her legs around him to keep him in place.

“It’s okay baby, you can do it inside me.” she breathed as she wrapped him closer in her embrace. “I want you to feel what it’s like. Let it all out inside of the womb that bore you!”

And with that, Jaekar’s lust overtook him entirely. He sped towards his climax with renewed ferocity, grasping his mother’s round, dimpled buttocks with both hands and drawing her in as closely as possible, plunging into the same cleft that brought him into the world. His eruption shot out in spurts inside of her, flooding her quivering crevice with thick gobs of his seed that soon leaked out of her slit and dribbled down her inner thigh.

The sheer force of his orgasm and the waves of pleasure that washed over him were too much for the young prince. His eyes rolled up in his head and the full weight of his body came to rest upon Salarea as he lost consciousness in her arms. She gently wove her fingers through the unkempt silver locks of his hair, noticing to her surprise that despite the intensity of his climax and his unconscious state, his cock remained hard as ever, throbbing steadily inside her with the beating of his heart. She pressed her lips up against the nape of his neck as she cooed tenderly into his ear. Then she out across the divan and slipped a hand underneath one of the nearby pillows, finding a small, crystal vial she had secreted there earlier. She brought it out, unstoppered the tiny cork with her thumb and forefinger and brought it down between her legs, careful not to disturb the prince as he slept. She pressed the vial up to her inner thigh and allowed her son’s essence to slowly drip down into its recesses, filling it to the brim. As she held the vial up to examine it and slowly swirled its viscous contents around in the light, a wide grin broke across her face. 

Success! The last ingredient she needed for the ritual had been secured. She carefully re-stoppered the vial, securing its contents and slipping it away back under the pillow. Her plan was coming together perfectly, now it could enter into its pivotal endphase.

The thrill of her triumph sent shivers through the Queen’s body, intensifying her sensitivity and making her realize how close her son had brought her to the edge. She had not quite reached her climax, she had not sought to. None of this had been for her own gratification, after all. Everything she did was for the future of her family and the strength of her House. 

But the steady pulsating of her son’s turgid manhood still buried deep within her and the tingling of his warm jism as it dribbled down her thighs drove the Queen half-mad with an all-consuming hunger, impossible to ignore. Despite her reluctance to wake the young prince after his exertations, she soon found her hips moving again almost of their own accord, riding up and down against her son’s thick, full cock.

Aching lust swelled within her and radiated out from their loins, still fully entwined and now positively sopping with his spent seed and her own sweet nectar. Delicately, inch by careful inch, she continued gyrating her hips underneath his prone body, milking him as he slept . Her breasts rose and fell with the effort, pressing two stiff nipples into his chest as she clutched him in a sweaty embrace..

Suddenly, the Prince stirred from his slumber. He raised himself up so his weight wasn’t pressing upon her so heavily and gazed down into her face. Her eyes were twisted shut with passion and her tongue flitted over her glistening, ruby red lips as she panted for each shuddering breath. Jaekar brought a finger up to trace the wetness of his mother’s mouth, and her eyes flew open with surprise. 

When she met her son’s gaze in the dimness of the bathing chamber’s candlelight, she immediately recognized a profound difference there. Any trace of the boy she had seen there before seemed to have melted away. She was looking up at a man grown now.

“No,” she breathed to herself, “Not just a man grown. But the Dragon, awakened!”

He began to move inside her again. Slowly at first, then picking up speed until he found a deep, forceful rhythm. Again and again he rammed into her with a fierceness she had not seen before. No more the clumsy fiddlings of a scared boy, not anymore. He was properly fucking her now, and the embers of the climax she had been attempting to stoke against him while he slept suddenly broke into a full-blown forest fire.

“Oh yes, my darling. Right there, it’s so good. Oh Gods, don’t stop!”

For a fleeting second, she worried that he might injure her with this newly awakened vigor. But with each powerful stroke, he seemed to let up just before he fully slammed himself into her, slowing at the last possible moment to lay a soft kiss upon the innermost mouth of her womb with his cockhead.

It was that tender concern he held for her gratification and well-being that finally sent her into ecstasy. That sweetness he showed at their most intimate moment together, even when he was fully in the throes of his own passion. She had fully awakened the Dragon that slept dormant within him, but a vestige of her sweet, beloved son still remained at his core. This was the sign she had been looking for for all these years, proof that her long scheming and careful plans had paid off more remarkably than she could have even hoped..

She had succeeded where so many of her ancestors had failed: she had managed to raise up a true Seed of the Dragon. A King born of pure Targaryen lineage, but free of the madness and savagery that had plagued so many of her forebearers. Jaekar had the Dragon’s ferocity, there could be no more doubt about that. She was experiencing undeniable proof at that very moment, eagerly answering the inferno of his unbridled passion with the same fire that burned in her own blood. Theirs was a dance that was beautiful and terrifying to behold, with a heat that would immolate any ordinary mortal.

Now that Salarea was sure her son possessed the raw stuff of power within him, she could begin to draw it out of him, to mold and shape it like the smith shapes a block of metal into a fine edge. This was her true duty, to her family, her house and the realm itself. He would wield terrible power when she was done with him, sufficient to cower even the worst foes. But Jaekar was also gentle of spirit, with a good heart. He would make a fantastic king, capable of projecting both power and mercy. In the orgasmic throes of her passion, she saw scattered visions as her third eye opened. Rows and rows of knights stretching off into the horizon, their armor gleaming as they marched beneath a red and black banner. Sparkling towers of white stone rising into the sky. And the massive shadow of a dragon as it fell upon the land below, blocking out the sun. 

Tears began to well up in her eyes, and fell in streaks down her flushed cheeks. As the visions faded and tumbled from her mind’s eye, she felt herself cresting atop of a gigantic wave. Every muscle in her body seemed to curl and convolce as her orgasm exploded from within and overtook her. She dug her nails sharply into her son’s back and let out a shriek of pure pleasure, heedless of whomever might be listening to their lovemaking.

“Jaekar, I’m cumming so hard on your cock! Do it with me, do it inside me. Please, I need it…” she cried as she shivered and spasmed in his arms.

The velvety folds of her sex contracted tightly against his shaft and she felt him once again melt inside her as another load of his thick seed painted her womb. Their fluids mingled and gushed out through her lower lips, soaking the sheets beneath them as they tumbled into the cushions, exhausted and breathing heavily.

“You’re ready, my son.” She said as she nuzzled her head against his chest, their bodies knotted together and glistening with sweat. “You’re a man grown now. And when the time is right, you will be a great King. I’ve seen it in my visions.”

“What else did you see in your visions, mother? Maybe once more…?” he trailed off as he buried his face into the nape of her neck and began fondling at her breast, his member already rising to life again.

Oh, to be young again, and so full of life! She rued wistfully, bringing his face up to meet hers. “Save your strength. The ritual must be carried out soon, and you will need all you can muster. Sleep now, my love.”

The Queen felt her son’s hot breath begin to steady against her nipple as he rested his head on her bosom and closed his eyes. She ran her fingers through his hair, softly humming an old lullaby she used to sing to him when he was but a babe in arms, suckling at her teat.

When she was very sure that the prince was deep in sleep, Salarea carefully slipped out of his embrace and tiptoed over to the edge of the pool where her robe had been tossed aside. She donned it over her shoulders and slipped the small vial of his seed into its pocket. Then she stepped back over to the divan and covered her son’s nude body with a sheet. His cock glistened with her juices, and she could still feel his seed trickling out of her cleft and down her thighs as she quietly made her way to the chamber doors and out of the baths.

The handmaiden outside sat straight up from her chair when she saw the Queen enter the hallway.

“The prince is not to be disturbed, he’s resting now.” Salarea announced, still tying her robe closed about her bare figure. “Tell me girl, what hour is it?”

“J-just after midday, milady.” the handmaiden answered dutifully, her face blushing scarlet.

The Queen frowned. They had spent much longer in the baths than she had realized. There were still so much to do, and precious few hours until the moon reached its zenith in the night sky. If the deed was not completed at that precise moment, all her efforts would be for naught.

Salarea pulled herself up to her full height and wrapped the robe more closely around herself, then set off at pace towards her tower. She snapped her fingers lazily at her side and the servant girl jumped up at once and quickly followed in her wake. As she made her way to her tower chambers, the Queen barked out a series of instructions that soon had the entire castle staff bustling about in all directions with elaborate preparations.

When they reached Salarea’s chamber, the handmaiden bowed deeply outside the door and made to step away. But Salarea motioned the girl to follow her inside, gesturing towards the fire that burned low beneath the cauldron she had left above it. As the girl tended to the fire, Salarea approached the cauldron and brought the small vial out from her robe. She unstoppered the cork and tipped it out over the bubbling mixture. 

The very instant that the vial’s contents touched the rest of the concoction, a column of flame shot out from the cauldron’s mouth. The handmaiden screamed and fell backwards from the sudden heat, but the queen stood quite still.

“Milady, the fire!” the maid shouted in horror as she saw the flames dance over the queen. But Salarea simply laughed.

“Quiet, foolish girl, fire cannot burn the Dragon.” the Queen retorted , leaning in to examine the potion as the flames subsided. It was simmering slowly now, taking on a shade of deep crimson.

Perfect, Salarea thought to herself, I’ve done it. She grabbed an empty flask from above the fire and filled it up with the blood-red mixture.

“Now,” she commanded the handmaiden, who looked on in wide-eyed terror. “Bring my daughter here, at once.”

***

The stableboy struggled as he hoisted a shield three sizes too large for him up onto his shoulder. The padded practice armor he wore was at least twice his size, and forced him to take short, waddling steps onto the practice yard. It took both of his arms to hold up the overlarge shield, so the sword he wore at his side remained in its scabbard, dragging on the ground as he moved. He peeked out from behind the great mass of oak and iron and looked over at his opponent, who was pacing back and forth across the yard from him and beating her mace against her own shield with such a frenzied energy that the boy’s knees began to quake.

“R-ready, milady.” he let out in a terrified squeak. As the Princess charged towards him, he scrunched his eyes shut tightly and braced himself for the terrible impact he knew was coming.

Jaheira struck out with reckless abandon, smashing her mace into the boy’s shield again and again as she swung it about her body in fierce circles. First left, then right, then left again. Loud cracks rang out through the yard as she pummeled her opponent. The boy staggered backwards, yet somehow managed to keep his feet against the onslaught. But his heart leaped into his throat when he heard the wood of his shield begin to groan, then hew and split in front of him. Jaheira was destroying his only protection in her fury, and the stableboy could hardly be sure that she would stop her attacks if it was smashed to splinters and he was left defenseless.

He was spared from finding out, however, when two handmaids hurriedly rushed across the practice yard and called out for her royal highness, the Princess. The impacts suddenly ceased as the women approached them. The stableboy risked another peek from behind his shield and saw that they were both familiar to him, from the Queen’s own retinue. Jaheira turned to face them, breathing heavily while sweat poured down her brow.

“Your highness,” they said as they both curtised in front of their Princess. “Her Majesty the Queen bids you to come and attend her at once.” one of the handmaidens spoke. The other wrinkled her nose ever so slightly as her eyes fell upon the mace and shield Jaheira still held in her hands.

“Tell my dear mother that I’m occupied at the moment.” Jaheira spoke through gritted teeth, her eyes narrowing. The younger of the haidmaidens seemed to wilt beneath her gaze, but the older one stood her ground defiantly.

“My apologizes, Princess, but the Queen was quite insistent that you come and see her right away. If you could follow us, please.”

Jaheira’s nostrils flared and she opened her mouth to make a scathing retort, but then thought better of it. She threw her mace and shield to the ground, then wordlessly followed the two women as they returned towards the castle.

The Princess stomped up the staircase that led to her mother's tower chamber, the anger burning within her seemed to grow with each step. The Queen rarely summoned Jaheira in this direct manner, which made the Princess nervous. When she did, it was usually to berate her for not acting as a proper lady, or to hatch another scheme to interfere in her life. Jaheira knew the Queen must be plotting something, as was her whim. She had heard the stories the smallfolk told about her mother, after all, had her own suspicions as well. Whatever it was, it couldn't bode well.

Perhaps she knows about father and I, Jaheira thought to herself, and began to feel a queasy sensation in her stomach. She didn't know how her mother might react if she found out about their dalliances, but she dreaded to find out.

She emerged from the stairway in the middle of a large, circular room at the top of the tower. Her mother's chambers, where the Queen could usually be found pouring over large tomes or mixing various strange colored concoctions in glass vials. The room was dimly lit, heavy black and red curtains surrounded the walls to keep out all sunlight. The only illumination came from the hearth at the far side of the wall, where Queen Salarea stood in front of copper kettle that hung over the fire.  
Her back was to Jaheira as she entered the room and the Princess stood there for a moment, watching her mother with curiosity as she stoked at the fire and stirred the kettle's contents. Then she loudly cleared her throat.

"I'm here at your command, dearest mother. What do you want, did you bring me up here for a cooking lesson?" Jaheira asked pointedly, the annoyance plain in her voice.

The Queen turned around to face her daughter, looking her up and down with a disapproving eye. "Maybe that would be for the best, sweetest daughter. Perhaps we can make a scullery maid out of you, since we can't seem to make you into a proper lady. Is this how a Princess of the Realm and future Queen of Westeros comports herself? Covered in sweat and grime, always swinging swords about, thrashing poor servant boys with a stick, frolicking around in the Godswood?" Salarea's voice rose suggestively as she spoke the last part, and the hair on the back of Jaheira's neck suddenly stood up. Did she know? How could she? That was impossible…

"I don't-" she stammered, wide-eyed. "...if you've summoned me up here for another lecture on court etiquette, mother, I can assure you..."

"Quiet, girl." the Queen cut her off. "That's not why I brought you here." Salarea crossed the room then, stepping towards the princess to inspect her more closely. She reached out a hand to grasp Jaheira's chin between thumb and forefinger, turning the girl’s head to get a better view of her daughter's profile. Then she clicked her tongue with disappointment.

"Such a pretty face. It might even be visible, were it not caked with dirt." the queen muttered, ruefully. "And your hair! Must you keep it so short? No, no, no, this won't do at all. I'll not see my son married to a page boy."

So that's what this is about Jaheira thought bitterly. Nothing is ever good enough for her little silver prince. "Mother, please. Jaekar is but a boy, hardly a match for me on the training grounds or as a husband. I want a man, I need a man. You don't know what it's like..." Jaheira trailed off, a pleading note in her tone.

The Queen burst out laughing at this, a knowing glint in her eyes. Then seemed to soften when she saw the fury rise in Jaheira's face. She sighed, then placed a hand on her daughter's cheek and spoke soothingly.  
"I know much and more that you do not, dear girl. It is past time, I think, to begin your...education. You will learn what is expected of you as a Targaryen and as a Queen. But first, we must scrub this muck off of you, have a proper look at what we're working with."

Salarea snapped her fingers, and the two handmaidens appeared before her and bowed lowly.

"Have some hot water brought up for a bath." Salarea directed, fussing with her daughter's simple leather practice jerkin. "And get the Princess out of these rags, then have them burned. Tonight, we make a Queen."

The Queen began to untie the cords that held Jaheira’s practice jerkin together while the handmaidens rolled her black leather riding breeches and smallclothes down from around her waist. Then lifted her shirt over her head, leaving her bare and slightly flustered.

The servants filled the basin of her mother's chamber with buckets of steaming water and Jaheira stepped into the bath, allowing the women to cleanse the sweat and dust of the practice yard from her skin. When they were done, she stood up in the bath while the maids toweled her dry, then began to anoint her with rich-smelling oils and creams. It had been years since Jaheira had required anyone's help to bathe, and never in this fashion, with salves applied to her skin.

They smeared their oils over every inch of Jaheira's fair skin. In her highly agitated and restless state, the handmaidens' clever hands probing and caressing every nook and cranny of her tight, athletic body caused a flush of heat to ripple through her. She turned her face away from her mother's watchful gaze, worried that a sudden blush might betray her growing arousal.

When they were done, the Queen approached Jaheira and curtly dismissed her maids with a wave of her hand. "I will complete the final preparations myself, you may go." the Queen ordered them as she circled Jaheira, still standing nude in the basin, and inspected her up and down. Her eyes landed on the unkempt tangle of black hair that sat on the mound between Jaheira's thighs.

Salarea tutted her tongue, then walked over the table in front of the fire and picked up a small, curved knife. The light gleamed off of its razor sharp edge and the Queen approached Jaheira again, bending down to her knees as she brought the knife up.

"Mother, wait! What are you-" Jaheira started, alarmed now. But the Queen shushed her.

"Don't squirm, girl." Salarea replied, as she placed a hand on Jaheira's buttocks to brace her. The cold steel of the knife caused her whole body to involuntarily quiver as it grazed against her skin. But her mother's hands were firm and deft. And with a few practiced flicks of Salarea's wrist, the Princess' unkempt bush suddenly lay floating in the bath water, leaving her nether region smooth and bare.

"There we are," the Queen said, happily. "Fresh as a daisy! I'm sure Jaekar will appreciate that. You really are quite breathtaking, Jaheira, despite your best efforts."

Salarea ran her fingers over the smooth mound of her daughter's sex. Then, again to Jaheira's surprise and mortification, the Queen gently probed a finger up into her daughter's cleft, causing the Princess to gasp. Then she withdrew her finger, trailing out a long strand of dewy wetness she found there between the folds. Jaheira blushed furiously at this unexpected violation, and at her now obvious arousal that had been exposed to her mother.

But the Queen paid her no mind. She approached the table again, this time picking up a small vial of clear liquid. Holding the vial up to the light from the fire, she allowed her daughter’s moisture to slide down her finger and into the container’s liquid. The second the droplet entered the vial, the liquid within changed color from clear to bright, verdant green.

Salarea broke into a wide smile at this, holding up the vial for Jaheira to see. "There we are, vivid green! My long preparations are finally complete and your cycle is perfectly in tune with the timing of the ritual. You are at the peak of your fecundity, it would be nigh impossible for any man to fail in seeding you right now, let alone the blood of the dragon."

Jaheira found her emotions were always close to the surface these past few weeks, and her rage boiled over again at this pronouncement from her mother. "Am I nothing more than a brood mare, mother? To be poked and prodded and only used to pop out squalling babes? You've never cared about what I want, it's always been about Jaekar! Now you prepare me for his pleasure? I won't be used like this!"

Salarea studied her daughter for a long moment, then sighed and shook her head. "You remind me so much of myself at your age that it's eerie. I remember this all happening before, right before your own conception. The heat, the unbearable lust, the anger at being used for such a purpose. Come, my daughter." and the Queen took Jaheira by the hands and helped her out of the basin. She led Jaheira from the bath to a full length mirror, and the Princess' breath caught in her throat when she gazed at her reflection in it.

She was stunning, her oiled and well-muscled form sparkled in the dancing fire light. Long, toned legs rose high from the floor to meet at her sculpted thighs and the puffy, glistening mound of her sex. Her flat stomach was topped by the two pert apples of her breasts, her pink nipples standing up fully and proud. As she breathed a sigh of wonder at her own reflection, her mother began setting about to place jewels in her hair and ears. Bracelets of spun gold wrapped around her strong arms. The Queen painted her lips and cheeks with a dark rouge, and shaded her eyelids smoky green.

"Now you are a proper Princess, my dear." the Queen told her. "And yes, you will be required to make certain sacrifices. But certainly not for me, and not even for Jaekar. You will do what is required of you for your family and the people we rule. They need a king, and it is your duty to give them one." Salarea's hand came to rest on her daughter's stomach. "Countless past generations of our ancestors will be with you today, watching as you fulfill your duty. And I know you'll make them proud." Then Salarea leaned in closer and whispered into Jaheira's ear. "Once you've completed those obligations, you will be a proper Dragon and all will fear you. The world will rest in the palm of your hand, you'll be free to take what you will from anyone. And no man will dare to cross you, or spurn your pleasure. That is my gift to you." The princess' eyebrows raised at that last part. Could she possibly mean…

Jaheira closed her eyes and tried to conjure up visions of her father and the passionate moments they had shared in the Godswood together. She’d wanted him for almost as long as she could remember: first desperate to please him, then later on to be pleased by him. But as these memories danced behind her eyelids, she saw the rough, scarred face and burly form of King Aegor seem to melt in her mind’s eye, replaced by the youthful beauty and slender features of Prince Jaekar.

She was surprised at first by this shift, then began to seriously consider her brother. He is certainly pretty. Breathtaking, even… she thought, as she felt her nude and oiled body vibrate with desire. Her thoughts shifted again, this time to their earlier struggle in the practice yard. She had felt his body pressed against hers, now hungering for more. Our children would be strong and glorious to behold, true dragons...

As Jaheira considered this, her mother brought forth a small black dress embroidered with dragons of red silk and pulled it over her daughter’s head. It was hardly more than a shift, so thin as to be almost translucent and so short that it barely covered the rounded cheeks of her posterior She wore no underclothes and the shift did little to hide her modesty. But her mother assured her that that would not be a problem, at least not today.

“If we must go through with this, mother, why does it have to be so...public?” Jaheira asked, nervously tugging the slight dress down to cover her bottom. The idea of coupling with her own brother in front of half the kingdom unnerved her, to be sure. But she would be lying if she said it didn’t excite her as well. All those eyes watching her, lusting after her as her brother took her maidenhead. She began to nibble on her bottom lip, furtively..

“It is tradition,” her mother answered. “The kingdom must know that their future Queen came to her husband as a virgin, and that their child is trueborn. An awkward and outdated custom, to be sure, but time-honored. It was the same with your father and I.”

“What if they don’t like me?” she blurted out, finally giving words to her deepest fear. What if Jaekar doesn’t like me?

“Jaheira, perish the thought! When you emerge in front of that crowd, even dead men will rise out of their graves for you! Parts of them, anyway…” the Queen tittered. “They might hoot and holler out their base japes, as the saliva dribbles down their slack jaws. But the Dragon does not concern herself with the leering eyes of the beasts below. We rise above the rabble,”

Finally, the Queen brought forth a tiara of pale silver and gold, inlaid with deep purple amethysts. She carefully placed it atop her daughter’s head, then whistled through pursed lips at the effect it had in the mirror’s reflection.

"You are ready, my dear. You will be the envy of every woman in the kingdom, and stir the prick of every man.” Salarea announced.

“Truly?” Jaheira breathed, transfixed by the reflection she saw. She had always known she was pretty, often catching the men of the castle staring at her body. But she never knew she could be beautiful before, not like this. The sheer dress she wore hung lightly from thin straps about her shoulders, and she delighted when the delicate fabric brushed against the contours of her body.

Then the Queen brought another vial up to her daughter's lips, full of a cloudy blue substance. "Drink deeply of this and we will go to meet your brother. And the rest of the kingdom."

The last of Jaheira's rebelliousness seemed to leak out of her and she did as her mother bade her, lifting the vial to her lips and swallowing its contents. It tasted thick and salty, rather like blood. But it also burned like wine as it went down, filling her body with unmistakable heat. The taste on her tongue seemed to shift as she drank, from blood to wine to an altogether pleasant sweetness, which brought to her mind an old memory from years past, when she and Jaekar were but children underfoot and had stolen a custard from the kitchens to gorge themselves on the tasty treat. She shook her head at this curious vision, confused. The potion had made her head swim, and the undeniable hunger within her body became almost painfully urgent.

Her mother took her arm to steady her. "There now, come with me. Everything is ready for us, there's a litter downstairs to carry us to the Dragonpit, where the ceremony will take place. Everyone is already gathered and awaiting. This will all be over soon. And that unbearable heat inside you will finally be quenched. This I promise you."

***

Jaekar gulped nervously and began slowly pacing back and forth across the central square of the Dragonpit, the stone ground cold against his bare feet. He wore only a robe of red and black, open to his navel and tied loosely at his waist with a silken cord. When he had protested about this attire, his father had grinned and explained that he wouldn't be wearing the robe for very much longer anyway.

The sky had grown dark and the stars shone down on them through the broken walls of what had once been a great, domed structure, now collapsed into ruin. But the central stage where the Prince paced was well-lit, ringed with plenty of burning braziers to provide a decent view for the several hundred audience members sitting on the stone benches in the amphitheatre above. They were some of the most powerful lords and ladies of Westeros, come from all over the continent and even from across the Narrow Seas to witness the event that was to take place.

During the time of dragons, Jaekar's Targaryen ancestors had kept and bred their great beasts here. So perhaps things haven't changed that much after all... the Prince thought wryly.

A cold wind bit through the flimsy robe that covered the Prince, so he halted his pacing and moved closer to one of the braziers to bask in its heat. He hoped that the audience observing everything from all around him would blame his shivering on the elements and not on his own nerves, which were badly fraying.

Maybe she's not coming. Maybe she's rejected you a little voice in Jaekar's head nagged him.

He was standing alone on stage and almost completely naked in front of the most important men and women in the realm, praying to the Gods above that he could make it through this ritual without humiliating himself. To make matters worse, the potion that his father had given him to drink just before they arrived at the Dragonpit had had some...unique...side effects. Namely, the almost painfully rock-hard erection that threatened to pop out of his robe at any second, exposing his obscene arousal to every important lord and lady in the kingdom. He desperately tried to tuck it up against his belly button and hold it in place with his silken belt, but that just made his awkward situation more pressing.

Jaekar was also keenly aware of the muttering and whispers that ran through the crowd above him, becoming more mocking and comical by the second as he stood there in his embarrassment. The prince gritted his teeth and pretended to ignore them, fixing his eyes on the fire burning within the brazier instead.

But suddenly, a hush came over the audience. All voices ceased, and Jaekar heard a chorus of shuffling noises as every head in the arena turned to look at towards the entrance, where a veiled litter borne by four strong Targaryen guardsmen was slowly approaching him on the stage.

Jaekar walked out to the edge of the steps that led up to the stage and waited beside his father King Aegor for the litter to arrive. The guardsmen carried the vessel to within about 20 paces of the stage, then pivoted to the side and slowly placed the litter on the ground. When the veils on each side of the litter parted, two visions of otherworldly beauty emerged. One was his mother, the Queen, looking radiant as ever in a long, argent dress, her silvery hair blowing about her in the wind.

But the woman that emerged from the other side was a stranger to him: a tall, striking figure with skin as pale as milkglass, wearing only a translucent black gown with red fringes and a sparkling, jeweled tiara. Jaekar was mesmerized as she approached, slowly swaying her hips back and forth as she stared directly into his eyes and fixed him with a smile that seemed to light up the very night sky. It was only when he noticed her close-cropped black hair that he even recognized his own sister.

That's...Jaheira?!? he breathed, his mouth agape with astonishment. He had never seen her dressed in anything remotely approaching what she wore now, so feminine and revealing. She was wearing a tiny little wisp of a dress, jewelry, even makeup! Her hardened nipples poked through the thin shift, and her rounded derriere caused the fabric of her dress to bunch in the back, offering a tantalizing glimpse of the bare flesh beneath.

The belt at his waist that had so feebly tried to hold back the roaring tide of his arousal finally gave up, and his rigid member popped out of his robe as it opened up in the front. Mortified, he quickly tried to pull it closed about him. But his father let out a hearty laugh, and pulled the robe off of his shoulders, exposing him fully to the spectators.

"You won't need this anymore, my boy!" the King japed, and the crowd responded with uproarious laughter. The prince blushed bright scarlet, but Jaekar soon heard their jests turn to gasps of surprise and amazement as they got a glimpse of his full nakedness.

He was slender, but well-formed, with the unmistakable posture and noble bearing of a true royal prince. But it wasn't his flat stomach or fair face that had caused their laughter to catch in their throats. Jaekar was uncomfortably aware that there were now hundreds of eyes all about him now glued to the sight of his protruding member. Several noble ladies seated around him audibly sighed, while he heard another man above him in the stands lean over to his companion and mutter "By the Gods, he'll split her in two with that thing!", to muted giggling.

But then the Prince's eyes again caught those of his sister as she ascended the stairs leading up to the stage, and the world seemed to melt away, until it was only the two of them. Jaheira held out her hand to him when she reached the top of the stage, and he reached out to take it in his own.

"You look...incredible, Jaheira!" He told her as she took her place beside him.

"I can see you approve." She smirked, her eyes darting downwards for a brief second. Then she grabbed his face and kissed him on the lips, suddenly and deeply. He was vaguely aware that his mother had joined the rest of her family at the center of the Dragonpit and seemed to be addressing the crowd, speaking far-away words that he only heard in bits and fragments when he wretched himself away from his sister's ruby red lips to gasp for air.

"Gathered today for a sacred purpose...ancient Targaryen custom...dance of dragons...heavenly bodies in perfect alignment..." but the rest of his mother's words were lost to him. All he knew now was the exquisite form of his sister's body as it pressed against him, and the taste of her tongue as it locked in battle with his own.

"My Queen, it appears that our children might be a little...eager to begin." King Aegor muttered to his wife as she regaled her audience with a rather lengthy treatise on the movements of the stars above and how the ancient Valyrians had tracked them. "Perhaps we can jump to the end?"  
"Oh my!" Salarea exclaimed as she cut off her speech and turned to see the Prince and Princess behind her, locked in a passionate embrace. "Yes, maybe that would be for the best..."

The Queen cleared her throat, and addressed the crowd again. "My Lords and Ladies, I give you: Prince Jaekar and Princess Jaheira of House Targaryen. Trueborn seeds of the dragon and your future King and Queen!". As Salarea made the pronouncement, she threw a handful of powder into a nearby brazier, and the flame erupted out in a spectacular blaze that lit up the entire arena and awed the collected lords and ladies.

King Aegor gently separated his son and daughter from each other's grasp and bid them to acknowledge the crowd. The Prince and Princess waved, rather sheepishly, at the cheering masses while the King lifted Jaheira's gown up over her head, exposing her fully. There were more gasps of astonishment as the crowd caught sight of their princess in her full glory. The burning braziers caused the light to dance across her oiled body, accentuating every curve and muscle. Then her father took her by the hand and led her to the dias in the middle of the stage, covered in white sheets and ornate pillows. The King kissed his daughter on both cheeks, then guided her to lie back on the platform, her bare legs bent at the knees and spread apart.

As Jaekar moved towards the dias to join his sister, he met the Queen first. His mother smiled warmly at him, then kissed him quickly on the lips and wiped a tear from her eye as she stepped aside. His father met him as well, leaning forward to grumble into his ear. "There isn't a man alive who wouldn't trade places with you right now, boy. Enjoy it!" Then he laughed and slapped Jaekar on the backside, before going to join his wife beside the dias.

Again, Jaekar could vaguely hear some hoots and growing excitement from the crowd, but it was as if they were underwater, or calling to him from a great distance. All else seemed to slip from his mind as he approached his sister Jaheira on the platform. She was raised up to waist height, laying on her back and gazing up at him with an intense look of unmistakable passion. Her legs splayed open to accommodate her brother, and he could see the smooth pinkness of her lower lips as they glistened with the wetness of her arousal. He ached maddeningly for her, and he bent down again to meet her lips and wrap his tongue around her own. His cock pressed between their bodies and he could feel it throb in rhythm with their combined heartbeat as his sister began to grind the slickness of her sex against his shaft.

He broke their kiss and rose up to position his member at the entrance of her warm cleft, her inner lips slowly wrapped themselves around the swollen head of his cock. She moaned softly at this, and he could feel the wet heat radiating from her loins as he gazed once more into her eyes. Jaheira licked her lips, then fixed him with a look of pure, animalistic lust and slowly nodded.

And at that, the Prince plunged himself inside the Princess.

Jaheira’s gasp of pain and ecstasy cut through the noise of the masses of people around them and rang out over the hollow recesses of the Dragonpit. As her brother pierced her maidenhead, she felt a small pinch of discomfort and her body shivered and tensed as she clutched him tightly with her thighs. But the potion and her long-suppressed passion had made her very wet. She was ready for him and the pain was not as bad as she’d feared, hardly worse than a well-struck blow on the practice yard. Her brother was looking intently down at her and immediately ceased his thrust when he saw her flinch, barely half on his length within her folds.

Her chest heaved as she breathed in deeply, her vision shifting in and out of focus as she looked up at the sky. Jaekar reached down almost reflexively to caress her breast, teasing her stiff nipple gently between his fingers, but still not moving inside of her. The sensation caused Jaheira’s whole body to shudder, pushing her tantalizingly close to release. As her inner folds contoured to the shape of her brother’s member and the initial pain faded, she realized he was only halfway inside of her, and began to positively ache for the full, smooth length of his cock

The princess wrapped her legs around her brother’s waist, locking her ankles at the small of his back and pulled him fully inside her with one powerful stroke. A climax broke over her as her brother entered her fully, the head of his cock pressing up gently against her cervix. Her back arched up against the cool folds of the sheet beneath them and she moaned loudly, only somewhat aware of the reaction this provoked from the crowd, who began to cheer on their young prince. 

“More!” she cried, clutching her brother’s body hard against hers as she rode the waves of her orgasm. “Fuck me, Jaekar, make me yours!” The words seemed to fly from her mouth unaided, as if she’d lost all control over them. But she didn’t care, ignoring all around her save her own welling pleasure..

Jaekar hardly needed to be told twice, and began pushing himself fully into Jaheira’s dripping cleft. She was tighter than their mother, and the folds of his sister’s taut, steaming pussy clenched against his member so closely that he knew he wouldn’t be able to last very long inside of her. The winds blew about them and the audience was loudly cheering and shouting out obscenely with his every thrust. But all he seemed to be able to hear at the moment was his sister’s moaning gasps for air and the wet, pounding sounds of their sex as his genitals softly slapped against hers.

When did my little brother grow so big, where has he been hiding this thick cock? Jaheira thought as Jaekar probed her inner recesses, every inch of her body screaming out for more. She ran her hands down the smooth muscles of his stomach, finally resting them on his hips as she pulled him in closer. He slowed his frenzied thrusting and leaned down to press his body against hers, their mouths interlocking once more in a deep, passionate kiss.

“It’s so hot inside of you.” Jaekar breathed into her ear as he pulled his mouth apart from hers, sucking in air. “I’m melting…”

“Do it, come inside me. I’m ready, I need it so badly. Give it to me, brother, give me a strong, silver-haired son!” 

Jaekar met her mouth once more and she greedily sucked on his tongue. He began to rhythmically pound her again, and she could feel his manhood grow and throb inside of her with his building orgasm. Jaheira moaned as she felt herself edging towards another climax of her own. “I’m so close. Come in me, come with me! Do it, fill me up...”

The tightness of his sister’s relentlessly clutching little slit was soon too much for the young prince. He pushed fully inside of her one last time when he felt his climax overtake him. The head of his cock softly kissed up to the mouth of her cervix as he erupted, painting the walls of her womb with thick jets of his seed as he spasmed and came inside of her. Jaheira wrapped her legs and arms fully about her brother, pulling him in as closely as she could while he filled her up completely, until warm gobs of his cum began to trickle down her thighs.

They stayed like that for a long, timeless moment, lost within one another’s intimate embrace. Sticky with sweat and bodily fluids while the waves of their pleasure washed and broke over them, slowly ebbing away.

But it wasn’t the laughing and cheering noises from the crowd that Jaheira noticed first when her heart finally stopped racing and she came to her senses. It wasn’t the chill night air or even the astonished looks from their parents, who had been seated right in front of the dias the entire time, looking on intently.

None of that seemed to register to Jaheira. The first thing she noticed as the last lingering wave of pleasure dissipated was her brother’s rock hard erection, still throbbing wetly inside her pussy and soaked with his spent seed and her own gushing juices.

He’s not done yet? She marveled, and slowly started to grind against him once more. She was overly sensitive in the wake of how hard she had just climaxed, and still a bit raw from the pounding her brother’s thick member had just given to her so recently virginal slit. But Jaheira was still eager, even desperate to keep him inside of her. She was well-lubricated now, after all, and the pleasure he gave her only seemed to increase as she became more accommodated to Jaekar’s girth. This first taste of sex had only whetted the princess’s appetite, leaving her still ravenous for more.

Jaheira clutched her brother and rolled over him, carefully keeping his member lodged deeply within her crevice as she spun them around and ended up mounted on top of him. This prompted a buzz of surprised gasps from the crowd. They had been loudly cheering and calling out ribald japes before. But as the show continued on in front of them for another round, they began to quiet and focus intently on the young royals. The Princess rode the young Prince with untamed ferocity, her toned thighs slamming against her brother’s hips as she impaled herself on his stiff member with swelling intensity. As the siblings’ evident passion grew to a crescendo, some of the lords were crossing their legs and shifting uncomfortably in their seats, while the ladies began licking their lips and running their hands idly over the fine fabrics that covered their breasts. The elderly Lord of Kingsgrave even took the hand of his much younger mistress, and the two of them quietly snuck out through the back of the arena in order to find a more private venue.

Jaekar now lay on his back, looking up at his sister’s perfectly-sculpted body as she rode him hard. He slid one hand up her taut stomach until it grasped her pert breast, while he pressed the other against her mound, gently teasing the hood of her clitorus with his thumb. This caused Jaheira to moan even louder, arching backwards with her arms bridged behind her to support her weight, grinding her sex wildly against her brother’s hands and probing member.

Jaheira closed her eyes as another wave of pleasure rushed over her, radiating out from the hard, slick pearl of her clit to bathe her whole body in its warm embrace. “Don’t you dare stop doing that!” she cried to Jaekar, almost screaming at him as she rode his thumb and cock to another climax. A blaze of yellow-red fire flashed behind her eyes and she suddenly recalled her earlier dragon dream. She had been flying through the sky on a giant beast, an unbearable heat burning between her legs. Maybe I did see the future... Jaheira thought, laughing to herself.

“Fuck me, Jaekar! Don’t stop, Oh Gods! It’s so good. Please, brother, give it to me deep…” She cried out, a desperate, pleading tone breaking through her moans.

As the princess opened her eyes, she found herself looking directly at her father King Aegor as he sat next to his Queen right above them. He was staring intently at her, a strange mixture of pride, jealousy and unmistakable arousal splayed across his face. She smiled seductively and winked at him, then threw her head back and continued riding her brother.

The Prince finally sat up from his reclined position on the dias and wrapped her tightly in his arms, their legs intertwined as she sat on top of his lap, still riding him. She pressed her breasts against his chest as he nuzzled and softly sucked at the nape of her neck.

“I can’t get enough of you.” Jaekar panted into her ear. “It’s like we were made for each other. I’m close...again…it’s so hot inside you...”

“We were made for each other.” Jaheira breathed into his ear, running her hands through her brother’s silver locks. “You fit inside me so perfectly, fill me so completely. My brother…” she pressed her lips against his. “My husband….” she kissed him again, “My King!” she cried as she kissed him a third time, more deeply and passionately than ever before. And with that, Jaekar exploded inside of her once more, his whole body convulsing as he filled up his sister’s thirsty womb with another hot, thick load of his spunk.

Jaheira threw herself back into the sheets, panting heavily as her brother’s stiff cock throbbed and spasmed and his hot, thick seed spurted into her. The Princess took it all, enraptured by the heat that raced through her belly as his essence emptied straight into her womb, his member finally slipping out of her aching cleft with a soft, wet schlick when he was spent. She lay on her back and rolled her knees up to her chest, trying to trap every drop of him as deeply inside of her as she could. Jaekar’s outstretched hand found hers in the tangle of damp sheets, and the two siblings interlocked their fingers together as pleasure and exhaustion radiated through them.

There was a long moment of silence that hovered over the Dragonpit as the crowd looked on in a daze. Then, they broke out in thunderous applause, rising to their feet and cheering. Many of them were wiping sweat from their brow, though the night was rather chill.

The King and Queen stepped forward, applauding proudly at their children’s exertion. They each helped raise the exhausted Prince and Princess to their feet, who waved a rather sheepish acknowledgement to the audience, before wrapping themselves in thick cloaks provided by attendants who raced to the stage to cloth them. The King picked up the bedsheet they had just soiled and held it up for the crowd to see, soaked through with jism, moisture and a few unmistakable droplets of blood.

“The ritual has been completed! Umm, twice, it would seem...” Queen Salarea announced to the gathered spectators.. She glanced sidelong at her son as he covered his nakedness in a thick cloak, her eyes fixed surreptitiously on his dripping wet member. If I had only known he was capable of that...she thought to herself, nibbling at her bottom lip.

“You’ve witnessed the conception of a true Dragon.” King Aegor proclaimed. “Another son for House Targaryen!”. And the nobles erupted again into cheers, chanting for their King and the royal family. Then they began to quickly file out, eager to find their respective wives, husbands and paramours.

Aegor laughed heartily as he exited the Dragonpit, japing back and forth with various high lords and ladies and he led his son back towards the castle. “Did you see that, he fucked her twice! He gets that from my side of the family, you know…” as the crowd broke into another burst of laughter and ribald jokes.

Salarea wrapped another cloak about her daughter’s shoulders and steadied her as they started back as well, a little more quietly.

“You did marvelously, my dear, a true Dragon Queen.” she whispered to the girl. “I knew you would. Now that the ritual is complete and you’ve been properly seeded, that all-consuming hunger should begin to calm as the magic dissipates. How do you feel?”

“You are right, mother. I feel...satisfied.” Jaheira offered vaguely. For now...

But she knew that her mother had it entirely wrong. Now that Jaheira had finally gotten this first little taste, the craving within would only continue to grow. The corner of her mouth curled up into a wry grin as she leaned her head down to rest on the Queen’s shoulder. And they walked back to the Red Keep, arm in arm.


End file.
